


The Snow Queen

by leighwrites



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, i went overboard and i don't regret it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:33:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15792891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighwrites/pseuds/leighwrites
Summary: 'Cold' fic for ITfandomweek.When Stan is taken by the Snow Queen, Eddie goes on an adventure to find him.





	The Snow Queen

**Part I: An Unusual Mirror**

  
Once upon a time, a very long time ago, the Devil had made a rather peculiar mirror which had him in rather good humour, for the mirror had an interesting power. Though it looked like any ordinary mirror, glass framed in gold, everything good and beautiful reflected into it dwindled and became almost nothing at all, warped and twisted into an ugly view; while everything that was bad and worthless became uglier than ever.

In this unusual mirror, the loveliest of landscapes warped and twisted until they became a mass of blurred and disgusting green, and the best people became hideous; their faces distorted beyond recognition.

The Devil had delighted in his creation, finding it absolutely funny to the point that he travelled the world among the humans, brandishing the mirror until there was no one left on Earth, or a piece of land that  _ hadn’t  _ been distorted in the mirror.

This, the Devil had decided, was how the world and its people  _ really  _ looked.

One day, the Devil was struck with a sudden idea. He wanted to fly up to heaven itself to laugh at the angels and god himself; distorting them in the mirror as he had done with the people on Earth.

And so, the Devil flew to the heavens with the mirror, barely managing to hold onto it while the mirror itself twisted and warped as it distorted the approaching heavens. But before the Devil could reach his destination, the mirror trembled violently and slipped from his hands; falling to Earth, where it shattered into billions of tiny pieces, maybe even more.

Some of the pieces were so small that they were the size of a grain of sand, and these were the ones that caused more trouble than the mirror did before it was broken. These were the pieces that went flying throughout the world. They skipped along the wind, some even crashing into people’s eyes where they would stay and distort everything that people saw; making them see only the bad side of things.

For every little bit of glass kept the same power that it had contained before the mirror had shattered.

Some of these glass splinters had even managed to find their way into people’s hearts; and that was the worst thing of all, as it turned the hearts into lumps of ice, which in turn turned them into a cold and hateful person.

Some of the mirror pieces were so large, however, that they were used as window panes, but they were not the kinds of windows that one should look at their friends through. Other pieces were made into spectacles, and evil things came to pass when people put them on to see clearly and carry out justice.

The Devil was so tickled by the entire thing that he laughed until his sides hurt, completely relishing in the chaos his mirror had created.

But some of those fine splinters of glass were still flying through the air, and that is where we begin.

  
  


**Part II: The Two Boys Who Lived Across From Each Other**

  
The city in which our story  _ truly  _ begins was so big and crowded with houses and people that very few of them found room for even the smallest of gardens. Most of the people had to be content with nothing more than a flowerpot, but two poor children who lived in this city had managed to have a garden just bigger than a flowerpot.

The parents of these children had always lived close to one another in houses that were somewhat adjoined, their roofs meeting in the middle and their windows facing each other; only parted by the rain gutters. All they had to do was step across the rain gutter to go from their own window to the other.

In these windows, there were large boxes where their parents planted vegetables for their own use, and a little rose bush to add some colour; and these bushes had thrived to perfection under the children’s care. One day, their parents had put them onto the rain gutters, where it looked like there were two walls of flowers between the windows.

In time, the pea plants had begun to hang down over the boxes, and the bushes threw out long vines that framed the windows and arched towards each other; creating an arch of greenery and flowers.

The children knew that they were not allowed to climb about on the boxes, but they were often allowed to take their little stools out onto the roof, under the roses, where they would always have a wonderful time playing together.

Winter, naturally, put an end to this pleasure. The windows would frost over, but they would heat copper pennies on their stoves and press them against the frost coated glass; making the finest of peepholes as round as a ring, and behind them would appear a bright friendly eye at each window; the two boys who had become best friends over the years.

Their names were Stan and Eddie, and they had known each other since they were four years old and could comprehend actually remembering someone. They were fourteen now, and the best of friends; in fact, Stan’s Grandmother had commented many times on their closeness and how  _ you could never find a pair closer than them. _

Now in the summer, they could skip over the boxes of flowers with ease to visit the other. An act mostly done by Stan, as he was the taller of the two, but to visit in the winter they had to travel downstairs and outside.

And that is what Eddie had done on this particular day, when the snow was whirring outside and Stan was helping his grandmother.

“The white bees are swarming out there.” Stan’s grandmother had commented while Stan had made them all something warm to drink.

“Do  _ they  _ have a queen bee, too?” Stan asked. He knew that  _ real  _ bees did and that the flurries of snow outside  _ weren’t  _ bees; but he liked to humour his grandmother. She had raised him all by herself after all, and all she ever asked for was a little indulgence once in a while.

“Indeed they do. She’s known as the Snow Queen.” His grandmother said. “She flies in thick of the swarm. She is the biggest bee of all, and can never stay quietly on the Earth, but goes back again to the dark clouds. Many wintry nights she flies through the streets and peers in through windows. They freeze over in a strange fashion, as though covered with flowers.”

Stan had almost dropped his mug. “Oh yes, I’ve seen that.” He said, attempting to keep his voice level.

“Can… can the Snow Queen come in here?” Eddie asked, his voice timid and nervous. He had not seen the flowery ice, but it still concerned him.

“Let her come.” Stan said quickly, sipping at his drink. “I’ll put her on the hot stove and melt her.”

His grandmother had laughed, stroked his curls, and then told them other stories.

And that night, when Eddie had gone home and Stan was half ready for bed, he climbed onto the chair by the window and looked through the little peephole. There were a few large snowflakes falling, and the largest flake of all touched the edge of one of the flower boxes and grew.

The flake grew bigger and bigger, until it turned into a young woman who was dressed in the finest white gauze, which looked as though it had been made from millions of star-shaped flakes. The woman was beautiful and graceful, shining like glittering ice. At first Stan had thought she was dead, but she was very much alive, and her eyes sparkled like stars, though there was neither rest nor peace within them.

She nodded towards the window and beckoned with her hand. Stan was frightened and as he jumped down from the chair, he could have sworn that a huge bird had flown by.

The following day was clear and cold, and the snow thawed and spring came. The sun shone and the grass sprouted and swallows made their nests. Windows were thrown open, and once again Eddie and Stan were able to sit in their little roof garden, high up in the rain gutter on top of the house.

And that summer the roses bloomed their best. 

Stan and Eddie were looking at a picture book of birds one day, and it was just then, right as the clock of the church tower stuck five, that Stan had hissed and pressed a hand to his chest.

Eddie discarded the book to one side in order to check on him. “Stan? What’s wrong?”

Stan took in a quick sharp breath. “My chest hurt for a moment and now there’s something in my eye.”

Eddie put his arm around Stan’s neck and peered into his friend’s eye as Stan blinked it, but he couldn’t see anything there. “I think whatever it was is gone.”

It was not gone, for one of the splinters of the mirror had pierced Stan’s chest and settled into his heart which would soon become a lump of ice. The pain had stopped now that it had settled, but the piece of glass was very much still there.

“Why are you crying?” Stan asked. “It makes you look ugly. There’s nothing the matter with me.” His head suddenly turned to the flowers. “Ugh, that rose is all worm-eaten and look! This one is crooked! And these roses! They’re just as ugly as can be. They look like the boxes they grow in.” He gave the box a kick and broke off both the roses.

“Stan! What are you doing!?” 

When Stan saw how it upset Eddie, he broke off another one and lept home through his own window, leaving Eddie alone.

Later, when Eddie had brought out an old book from their childhood which still soothed Stan even to this day, he had said it was fit only for babes in the cradle, and whenever his Grandmother had told stories, he always broke in with a  _ “but-” _ . If he was able to manage it, he would sneak behind her, perch a pair of spectacles on his nose, and imitate her. He did this so cleverly that it made everyone laugh, and before long he could mimic everyone who lived on their street; everything that was odd or ugly about them. 

Stan could mimic them so well that people had said he had a good head on him, but it was the glass in his eye and the glass in his heart that made him tease even Eddie, who loved him with all his soul.

They were fifteen now, and it was winter again. The snow was flying about and Stan had brought a large magnifying glass out with them as they made their way into the heart of the city. “Look through the glass.” He told Eddie, holding the item out to him.

Eddie did, and he saw that each snowflake seemed to be much larger, and looked like a flower of magnificent design, or a star with ten points. It truly was a sight to look at.

“Look how artistic it is!” Stan said gleefully. “They’re much more interesting to look at than real flowers. They’re  _ perfect _ . There isn’t a single flaw in them until they start melting.”

In the city square, some of the more adventurous boys had tied their sleds behind the farmer’s carts to be pulled along for quite some distance. It was a wonderful sport; at least to them. Stan had abandoned Eddie here (who had to get some things for his mother), in favour of joining them.

And while the fun was at its height, a big sleigh had pulled up. It was painted entirely white, and the driver wore a white fur cloak and a cap to match. As the sleigh drove twice around the square, someone had hooked their sled onto it and helped Stan hop onto it to join in the fun, and down the street they went; faster and faster.

The driver had turned around and nodded to Stan, as though they were familiar with one another, and every time Stan went to unhook the sled once they were done, the driver nodded again and he held on; even when they drove right out of the gate.

The snow had begun to fall now, so thick that Stan couldn’t see his hands in front of him as they sped on. He let go of the rope in order to attempt to get loose from the big sleigh, but it was to no avail. He’d tied it on too securely and he was forced to hold on as they continued to plough through the snow like the wind.

The snow whirled around them and the sleigh continued to fly through it, giving a jump once in a while, as though clearing hedges and ditches. The snowflakes grew bigger in size until they looked like giant white hens, and then suddenly the curtain of snow parted and the sleigh came to a stop.

The driver stood up and Stan was able to see that the fur coat and cap were both made of snow and that the driver was a woman, tall and slender with glittering skin like ice. The Snow Queen herself.

“We have made good time.” She said, more to herself than Stan. “Is it possible that you tremble from the cold? Crawl under my coat.”

She helped Stan into the sleigh beside her, wrapped the fur around him, and he felt as though he were sinking into a snow drift.

“Are you still cold?” She asked, kissing him on the forehead. The kiss was colder than ice itself, and Stan could feel it right down to his heart; half of which was already an icy lump now.

For a moment, Stan felt as though he were dying, but then he was suddenly comfortable and no longer felt the cold around them. “The Sled.”

The Snow Queen tied the sled to one of the white hens, which flew alongside them with it on their back, and she kissed Stan’s forehead once more.

And it was like a haze had set in over his mind, like a thick blanket. Stan forgot about Eddie, his Grandmother, and everyone else at home.

Stan finally looked at the Snow Queen properly. She was beautiful, and he could not imagine a cleverer or prettier looking face. She no longer looked like she was made of ice, like she had done outside of his window the year before. To him she was perfect, and he was not afraid of her.

He looked up at the big space overhead as she flew with him, high onto the black clouds, while the storm whistled and roared as if it were singing. They travelled over forests and lakes, land and sea. Below them the wind blew cold and wolves howled; black crows screaming as they skimmed across the glittering snow.

When the morning came, he slept with his head in the lap of Snow Queen, who gently stroked her fingers through his hair.

And Eddie woke to the devastating news that Stan had not come home.

 

  
**Part III: A Magical Woman**

 

Eddie did  _ not  _ know what had happened to Stan. He did not understand why he had never come home. He did  _ not  _ know where he could possibly be. No one did. All anyone could ever say was that they had hitched a sled to a larger, finer one, put Stan on it, and that it had driven down the street and out of the gates with Stan on it.

No one knew what had become of Stan. Tears had been shed, and Eddie had sobbed the hardest of everyone. The assumption was that Stan had died, that he must had fallen from the sled and drowned in the river not too far away.

Those winter days had been gloomy.

But Spring soon came and with it came the warm sunshine. Eddie was sixteen now, and the springs on the rooftop garden were not the same, and when Eddie looked hard enough, he could see Stan’s Grandmother on autopilot; completely at a loss on how to spend her days,  now that her Grandson was gone.

“She’s lost because Stan is dead.” Eddie had said, staring up at the overhead sky. “I think I’m lost because of that, too.”

“I don’t believe it.” 

Eddie’s head snapped to the flower boxes between the houses to see a bird, a raven, if he recalled correctly, hopping around on the edge of the box, talons curved neatly around the edge.

“Did you just - no, you couldn’t have.” Eddie said, shaking his head. “I’m losing it because I’m lost. Because Stan is dead and gone.”

The raven puffed up. “ _ I  _ don’t believe he is.” The bird sang, flapping its wings and lifting into the air. It swooped towards Eddie and landed on his shoulder, beak clicking. “And I don’t think  _ you  _ believe that, either.”

And he didn’t. Eddie  _ knew  _ he didn’t, and one morning he woke up and said to himself: “I’ll put on the new shoes ma got me, and I’ll go to the river and ask about him.”

It was early in the morning when Eddie kissed his mother on the cheek while she still slept, put on his the new shoes she had gotten for him, and hurried away from the house. The raven was waiting for him, perched on on a window ledge and taking flight when it saw Eddie, gliding through the air beside him as Eddie ran through the city and out of the gate to the river. 

The bird perched itself in a nearby tree, hopping around the branch as Eddie approached the river.

“Is it true that you took my friend? I’ll give you my most precious possession if you bring him back.”

It looked as though the waves had nodded strangely at him, and Eddie removed his ring, an item that had once belonged to his father, throwing it into the river. However, the ring fell near the shore, and the waves washed it right back to him, as though it could not take the ring because it had not taken Stan. 

Eddie, however, was afraid he had not thrown it far enough, so he clambered into a boat that was discarded in the reeds, and walked along to the end. Before he could throw the ring again, the boat gave a jerk and began to move away from the bank as the raven took flight once more, soaring overhead while the boat began to drift down the river.

He was afraid, yes, but as the bird landed on the side of the boat and folded its wings shut, Eddie felt oddly comforted. The scenery around him was pretty on either side, lovely flowers, old trees, the odd hillsides and pastures full of cattle and sheep.

But Eddie had yet to see an actual person.

“Perhaps the river will take me to Stan.” Eddie said, and the raven puffed up and hopped down into his lap. “What do you think?”

“ _ I  _ think it might.” The bird said.

“Do you have a name I can call you?”

The bird hopped further up Eddie’s leg and cocked its head to one side. “You can call me Mike.”

“Eddie.”

The two of them fell silent and Eddie watched the green banks for hours as they continued to drift down the river. After some time, just as the sun was reaching its highest point in the sky, Eddie saw that they were approaching a Cherry Orchard and allowed himself to marvel at the sight of it, for right there in the center of it was a little house with red and blue windows. It was a simple house, with a thatched roof and two wooden soldiers standing outside that presented arms to anyone sailing by.

Eddie had thought they were alive at first and had called out to them, but they did not answer. The boat bobbed and the current shifted; driving Eddie towards the bank. He called out again, and this time an old lady came out of the house, leaning on a crooked stick and wearing a big sun hat with only the most glorious of flowers painted onto it.

“You poor child!” The woman exclaimed, hobbling towards the bank. Eddie was confused. He was no child, but he supposed that to the woman, he was. “However did you get lost on this big swift river and mange to drift so far into the world?”

The elderly woman waded out into the water and used her stick to catch hold of the boat, dragging it towards the shore. Mike took off again, sailing ahead into the Orchard while the woman helped Eddie to climb from the boat, and he was more than happy to be on dry land again, though he was a little afraid of the strange woman.

“Come and tell me who you are, and how you got here.” The woman, soon known as Sonia, ushered Eddie into the house while Eddie talked. The woman nodded and hummed to show she was listening, and when Eddie had asked if she’d seen Stan, Sonia had shaken her head and told him that he had not yet come by, but also that he might be along any day.

Sonia was pleasant enough, slowly leading Eddie through the Orchard so he could look at the flowers, which were better than anything he’d seen in a picture book growing up, or even in the city. He had not seen most of these flowers before, and Sonia had a story for each one, as well as a name.

Mike ruffled his feathers as Sonia took Eddie by the hand and led him inside, explaining how she had been in the middle of making a cherry pie when she’d heard him shouting out for help.

Eddie did  _ notice  _ that Sonia had locked the door behind them, and he did not hear the angry chirp of the raven they had left outside.

The strangely coloured windows Eddie had seen from afar were positioned high on the walls, and through the reds and blues, the sunlight streamed into the house in a strange mixture of colours. Eddie felt less afraid as Sonia placed a generous slice of the Cherry Pie onto a plate and set it in front of him, and happily allowed the woman to feed him.

And while he ate, Sonia brushed his messy hair with a golden comb, removing the kinks he’d managed to get from the wind.

“I’ve so often wished for a dear little boy like you.” Sonia told him. “Now you’ll see how well the two of us will get along.”

While Sonia brushed his hair, Eddie slowly began to forget all about Stan, for Sonia was very skilled in magic. She had been exiled from a nearby town for attempting to kidnap many children before Eddie and keep them as her own.

Sonia set the brush aside once she was done, smoothing out Eddie’s hair and placing a light kiss to the top of his head before allowing him to eat in peace. She made her way back into the garden and pointed her stick at the rose bushes, forcing them to sink back into the Earth. Mike remained in his Cherry tree perch, talons curled around a branch as he watched the woman, and the realisation dawned on him.

Sonia was afraid that if Eddie saw her roses he would remember his own, and then Stan. She was afraid that if Eddie remembered both of these things, he would run away.

Once Eddie was done eating, Sonia had led him back into the flower garden. Every flower of every season was in full bloom here, and no picture book would ever capture such beauty. Eddie spent many days after that helping Sonia to tend to the flowers, until the sun went down behind the tall cherry trees, and then they would have dinner, talk for a while, and Sonia would tuck Eddie into a beautiful bed under a silk blanket.

Eddie soon knew every flower by heart, and as plentiful as they were, he couldn’t help but feel as though there was one missing, but he just wasn’t sure which one. And one day, while staring at Sonia’s sun hat that was resting on a hook next to the door, while she was off in town, he noticed the prettiest flower of all painted there.

A rose.

“Why aren’t there any roses here?” Eddie asked himself, rushing out among the flower beds.

He looked and looked, but there wasn’t a single rose. A familiar chirping caught his attention and Eddie looked up to see Mike soaring towards him, landing on a patch of grass which he began to tear at with his feet. Eddie caught on quickly and fisted the grass, tearing chunks of it out, while Mike clawed and clipped his beak at the ground.

The dirt got wedged under Eddie’s fingernails, and it stained his fingers and hands, but he didn’t care. He needed to keep digging. He  _ had  _ to. Soon enough, he could see the bright red of a fully bloomed rose, sitting at least three feet underground.

And he remembered his own roses that he’d grown with Stan in large boxes, positioned between their windows. 

He remembered Stan, too.

“How long have I been delayed for?” Eddie asked himself, hands curled around the hole he had dug. “I should have been looking for Stan!” And then his attention was fully on the uncovered rose. “Do you know where he is? Do you think he’s dead and gone?”

“He isn’t dead.” The rose spoke, and it didn’t surprise Eddie in the least after meeting Mike, who was now picking dirt from his talons with his beak. “I have been down in the Earth where the dead people are, but Stan is not there.”

“Thank you.” Eddie scrambled to his feet and ran. 

Mike swooped overhead as Eddie made for the end of the garden and jumped the gate, running into the wide world with bare feet and a feathery companion. He looked back at least three times, knowing the direction Sonia would return from on her way back from town, but no one came after him.

He thought of his real mother, still at home and broken over him vanishing. Would she think he was dead too? Would she turn onto some autopilot as Stan’s grandmother had, and become completely lost without him? He wanted so desperately to go home. To see his mother and assure her that he was fine.

But he couldn’t.

Not without Stan.

Eddie could no longer run and he sat down to rest on a boulder, and when he looked up at the fields around him he saw that summer had passed and it was now late into fall. He hadn’t noticed it while he had been inside Sonia’s garden, where the sun was always shining.

He wondered if it had disorientated Mike too.

“It’s been so long.” Eddie said, sounding disheartened. “Fall is here… and I haven’t found Stan yet. I can’t rest anymore.”

“You need rest.” Mike said from his shoulder, nudging his face into Eddie’s cheek. 

Eddie shook his head, filled with determination and stood. His feet hurt and everything around him was cold and bleak, but he still pressed on. The world was dreary and gray and winter was fast approaching, but still, Eddie forced himself to move.

He  _ would  _ find Stan and take him home.

 

  
**Part IV: The Two Princes**

 

The next time that Eddie was forced to rest, Mike had returned from his journey into the snow, landing at his bare feet and hopping around almost excitedly.

“Eddie! Eddie! I have news! Big news! I think I found Stan!”

“Y-you do?” Eddie asked, sweeping the raven into his hands with a grin.

“Not so fast, not so fast!” Mike hopped onto Eddie’s shoulder. “If I have it right, it seems that he’s forgotten you for a Prince. Listen, listen, this is what I heard in town. In this Kingdom there is a Prince who is uncommonly clever, and from what the crow told me it’s no wonder! He’s read all the newspapers in the world and forgotten them again, that’s how clever he is! Well, not long ago he was sitting on his throne, and that’s by no means as much fun as people suppose, so he started humming an old tune and the chorus happened to run,  _ why oh why shouldn’t I get married? _ ”

“A crow told you this?”

“Oh yes! The town is his home! Anyway, the Prince made up his mind right there and then to marry someone, as soon as he could find the sort of person who could give a good answer when anyone spoke to him, instead of someone who stood around looking impressive. When the rest of the palace heard what he had in mind they were delighted! So anyway, the crow said that the newspaper immediately came out with a border of hearts and the initials of the Prince, and you could read an announcement that a presentable person might go to the palace and talk with the Prince. Very innovative town. Didn’t matter if it was a man or a woman. The one who spoke best and seemed the most at home in the palace would be chosen by the Prince as his marital partner.”

Eddie shivered, rubbing his hands up his arms. “A-and then what?”

“Men flocked to the palace and there was so much crowding and crushing, but no one was chosen. The crow said that on the third day, a young man showed up with neither horse nor carriage, and strode boldly up to the Palace. He said the man’s eyes sparkled just like yours do, and he had unusual curly hair and poor clothes.”

“That’s Stan! It has to be!” Eddie said, his excitement picking up. “I’ve finally found him! Please, Mike, you have to take me to the Palace! I have to see him!”

“That’s easy enough to say - maybe the crow can help. But I don’t think they’ll admit you into the Palace.”

“When Stan hears it’s me, he’ll come to get me.”

Mike ruffled his feathers. “Wait for me beside the stile.”

Eddie nodded, and Mike took off, only to return in the dead of night with a small loaf of bread in his talons, which he dropped into Eddie’s hands.

“The crow sends his best wishes, and here’s some bread. His ladylove spends her time in the Palace. They have all the bread they need, and you must be hungry. You won’t be able to get into the Palace with those bare feet, but the crow’s ladylove knows of a little back staircase that leads to a bedroom, and she also knows where is the key kept, so the crow will take us to it.”

Eddie nodded and quickly ate the bread before he followed Mike into the town. A crow hopped around on the wall of the fountain in the town square, squawking in delight when he saw them coming.

“Hurry, hurry, come.” The crow said, taking flight and heading towards the Palace garden.

Mike and Eddie hurriedly followed the crow into the garden, and down the wide promenade,  where the leaves were falling from the trees. As the lights in the Palace slowly went out one by one, Mike landed on Eddie’s head and the crow led them to a back door which stood ajar.

Eddie felt his heart beating with fear and longing, like he was about to do something wrong.  But he wasn’t, right? He only wanted to make sure it really  _ was  _ Stan.  _ Really, it must be him _ , he thought, because he recalled Stan’s sparkling eyes and curly hair. 

He even remembered exactly how he looked when he used to smile at him as they sat under the roses at home. Wouldn’t Stan be glad to see him? Wouldn’t he be interested in hearing how far Eddie had come to find him, and how sad they all had been when he didn’t come home?

He was frightened, yes, and yet he was also so  _ happy _ .

Now they were on the staircase, and there was a little lamp burning on a cupboard. Next to it stood another crow, smaller than the one who had been leading them here; his ladylove, Eddie realised.

She cocked her head to look at Eddie, who made a brief bow that his mother had taught him. “My love had told me many charming things about you from your raven friend. Your biography, as one might call it, is very touching. If you would kindly take the lamp from beside me, I shall lead the way. We shall keep moving straight ahead, where we aren’t going to run into anyone.”

“To me it feels like someone is on the staircase behind us.” Eddie said.

Something brushed past him, and from the shadows on the wall, they looked like horses with spindly legs and waving manes. There were also shadows of huntsmen, Eddie realised; both male and female on horseback.

“Dreams and nothing more.” The female crow said, her voice soothing. “They come to take the thoughts of their royal masters off to chase. It will give you a good opportunity to see them while they sleep. But I trust that when you rise to high position and power, you will show a grateful heart.”

The male crow clicked his beak. “You’ve no need to say that, love.”

The female crow apologised, and they entered the first room. It was decorated in rose-coloured satin that was embroidered with flowers, and the dream shadows moved so fast now that Eddie couldn’t see the lords and ladies.

Hall after hall bewildered Eddie, each one so magnificent that he wondered how Stan had managed to make it here.

And after what had felt like forever, the female crow led them to the royal bedroom. The crows did not enter, but Mike remained on Eddie’s head as he silently stepped into the room; heart slamming against his chest.

Just like every other room in the Palace, it was finely decorated, and in the middle was a large bed with two sleeping figures; one of which he was sure was Stan. Eddie was careful as he pulled the blanket back from the face of the one he could tell had curly hair, and the moment the face was revealed the lamp fell from Eddie’s hand and hit the floor with a clatter; the young man’s eyes snapping open at the sudden loud noise.

It wasn’t Stan. Eddie didn’t know  _ who  _ this was but it wasn’t Stan.

“Who the -”

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked, tumbling from Eddie’s head as he took a staggering step backward.

Eddie could feel his entire body trembling.  _ Not Stan, not Stan.  _ “I - I’m sorry! I didn't -”

And then everything came crashing down onto him and Eddie was sobbing.

“What on Earth is the matter?” The female crow had swept into the room, landing on Eddie’s shoulder and nudging her face to his cheek. “Is it not who you were looking for?”

Eddie couldn’t speak through his tears, only shaking his head and clasping a hand over his mouth. He wanted to vomit. How could he be stupid enough to think that Stan would have been here, only based on three traits that they shared?

And that was all they shared, really, because where Stan’s hair was soft, neat, tight golden curls, this man’s hair was unruly, messy, dark looser curls.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” The man had climbed out of the bed quickly and rushed over, clamping his hands down onto Eddie’s shoulders.

The other Prince woke up, and his voice was groggy, laced with sleep as he spoke. “Richard,  what’s going on?”

Mike found his perch on Eddie’s head once more and spoke for him, telling them everything that he knew, from when he’d flown down onto the flower box between the houses where Eddie and Stan lived to right now; the reason that Eddie was sobbing, unable to stop himself from doing so.

Richard had managed to calm Eddie down long enough that they (they being him and his husband William) could convince him to get into the bed in their place and sleep. Mike nestled down onto the pillow next to his head, folding his wings back over his body. They were surprisingly not angry that some young stranger had broken into the Palace with the help of crows and had woken them up in the night.

In fact, all they could feel for the boy was sympathy. They had even praised the crows for such a noble deed, but had asked for them not to do it again.

“Poor thing.” William said, looking over his shoulder at the sleeping Eddie. “He has travelled such a long way.”

“Maybe there’s something we can do to help him.” Richard said, raising a hand to stroke the head of the crow on his shoulder. “We can’t just let him leave dressed like that. He’ll never survive the winter.”

So the following day, they had dressed Eddie to his heels in silk and velvet, and had even made sure to get him some boots and gloves. They had arranged for a carriage to take Eddie to the next town, where the Prince there would be able to help him further (or so they hoped).

Mike was nestled in Eddie’s hair as Richard helped Eddie into the carriage. “I hope you find your friend. He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“If you find him, be sure to send your raven friend back.” William said, one hand curled around the carriage door. “We would love to hear how this tale turns out.”

“I will.” Eddie assured them. “Thank you for all your help.”

 

  
**Part V: The Robber Girl**

 

Mike had stayed with Eddie for the first four miles of the carriage ride before he’d decided to go ahead and wait in the next town; a chance to really stretch his wings. This left Eddie alone in the carriage, on the path that rolled into a dark forest. And being made of gold, the carriage caught the attention of some robbers who couldn’t bear it.

They sprang forward, seized the horses, killed the footman and the driver, before dragging Eddie out from the carriage, who kicked out at them the whole time.

“He’s a feisty little thing, isn’t he?” One of the robbers said as he wrapped his hand tightly around Eddie’s wrist. “Look how tender he looks. What a dainty dish he’ll b -ouch!”

Right at that moment, the only girl of the group, with short fiery red hair, had swept the robber man’s legs from under him with her feet, her body still poised in a crouch next to him. Eddie staggered backwards, and for a moment he thought about rubbing, but another robber had grabbed him, his body much bigger than the one on the ground, and his arm was wrapped firmly around Eddie’s stomach.

“ _ I  _ want him, Vic.” The girl spoke, slowly standing up. “You promised me I could have the next one for whatever I wanted and I want him! He’s going to be my friend and he’s going to stay with me in my room.”

Vic, the robber on the ground, finally clambered to his feet and rubbed at his leg. “Okay, okay,  _ fine _ . You can have him, but you have to ride in the carriage with him so he doesn’t try to escape.”

“Deal!” Beverly wrapped her hand around Eddie’s wrist and dragged him into the carriage.

Vic took up the driving position and the larger man climbed onto the back, the coach rocking from the sudden added weight, and before Eddie knew what was happening, they were heading further into the depths of the forest.

The robber girl was just a little taller than Eddie, but her body looked broader than his own in the shoulders. Her skin was tanned softly and her eyes were so green that Eddie felt like she had the whole ocean in them.

She slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders as she took the seat next to him, humming happily to herself. “They won’t kill you unless I get angry with you. What’s your name? Mine’s Beverly!”

“Eddie.”

“Well, Eddie, I assume you must be a prince to be in a carriage this fine. How unfortunate that you would come into our neck of the woods.”

“I’m not a Prince.” Eddie said, and then he told Beverly about everything that he’d been through and how much he cared about Stan.

Beverly looked at him gravely, gave a nod of approval, and then spoke again. “Even if I get angry with you they won’t kill you, because I’ll do it myself.”

And then she dried Eddie’s eyes and pulled him into her side, humming softy once more.

The carriage finally stopped at last in the courtyard of a robber’s castle. The walls were cracked from top of bottom, and in the middle of the stone paved smoky hall there was a fire burning. The smoke drifted up and wafted from the windows, and there was a large cauldron of soup boiling above the fire while hares were being roasted on a nearby spit.

“Tonight you shall sleep with me and my friends.” Beverly said, and after they had eaten and gotten something to drink, she led Eddie into a joining room, which was decorated with rugs and straw.

On sticks and perches, around the bedding of straw and rugs, roosted nearly a hundred birds of varying species. They looked as though they were sleeping, but they stirred a little when the two of them approached the bed.

“They’re all mine.” Beverly said proudly, extending her arms. “Aren’t they beautiful? Henry said I should get pets that are easier to keep locked up, like this guy!” She skipped across the room and made some kind of weird ‘ta-dah’ pose to show off the reindeer tethered in the corner, with a shiny copper ring around his neck.

Once again, Beverly seized Eddie’s wrist and guided him to the pitiful excuse of a bed, pulling him down onto it. “Now, tell me about your adventure again. Did you really travel with a raven? Where is he now? And what about that witch? Were those Princes really nice? How long have you known this Stan for?”

Eddie told Beverly the story again, and she listened with intensely close attention, her eyes lighting up at the tale. Beverly confessed she had always wanted to travel around the world, but Henry would never allow it, and whenever she tried to, Henry would send Vic, Belch, and Moose out to get her, and then Henry would beat her in front of the other robbers as a warning.

A cardinal hopped about on its perch, wings fluttering like crazy. “I have seen Stan. A white hen was carrying his sled and Stan slept in the lap of the Snow Queen herself.”

“What?” Eddie asked, his head snapping to the bird as it swooped to a lower perch. “He was with the Snow Queen? Where were they going? Do you know?”

“She may have been heading to Lapland, where there is always snow and ice. Why don’t you ask the reindeer?”

Beverly watched the interactions carefully, her brow furrowing.

“Yes, there is ice and snow in that glorious land.” The reindeer spoke, angling his head towards Eddie and Beverly. “You can prance about freely across those great glittering fields of snow. The Snow Queen has a summer tent there, but her stronghold is a castle up nearer the North Pole, on the island called Spitzbergen.”

Eddie sighed. “Oh, Stan, what are you doing?”

“Do you know where Lapland is, Ben?” Beverly asked the reindeer.

“Who knows it better than me?” Ben countered, and his eyes sparkled. “There I was born, there I was bred, and there I kicked my heels in freedom, across the fields of snow.”

The following morning, Beverly rose Eddie while it was still dark. After checking on something outside, the redhead nodded to herself and made her way to the reindeer, who shied away from her.

“Ben, you’re my favourite pet, you know, but I feel it’s time for me to let you go.” Beverly said as she untied the rope. “I’m going to get you outside, and you can run back to Lapland, but you must put your best leg forward and take Eddie to the Snow Queen’s palace where his friend is.”

The reindeer nodded eagerly and Beverly helped Eddie to climb onto his back, before handing him a small pillow to sit on. Next, Beverly led them out into the main hall, where a good number of the robbers were sleeping. Eddie watched her sneak around the room with surprising finesse, shoving a few loaves of bread and some ham into a small sack that she tied around Eddie’s wrist.

“So you won’t starve.” Beverly said, a smile coming to her face.

Eddie didn’t understand. Hadn’t Beverly wanted to keep him? “Why -”

“Because no one should be kept like a pet.” 

Ben walked slowly, his hooves making only the softest of clopping against the stone floors as Beverly led them across to the archway, where a set of large wooden doors would have once stood. Once she was standing at the side of it, she turned to look at Eddie with another smile.

“Good luck. Run.”

Ben bounded away; over stumps and stones and through the forest, leaping over swamps as he ran as fast as his legs would allow. Wolves howled and ravens shrieked at them as red streaks began to infiltrate the sky.

As first Eddie had thought this was the sunrise, but then more colours joined the red; blues, yellows, greens. They were beautiful; a waving rainbow in the sky.

“Those are the Northern Lights.” Ben said, and then he ran faster than ever.

And before Eddie could register anything, they were in Lapland.

  
  


**Part VI: The Lapp Woman and The Finn Woman**

  
Ben brought them to a steady stop outside of a little hut that was very clearly a makeshift dwelling. Its roof almost touched the ground, and the doorway was located so lowly that the people living there had to lie on their stomach and crawl in and out of the building. At the moment, no one appeared to be home, except for a young Lapp woman who ushered Eddie inside before she returned to the food she had been cooking; fish over a whale-oil lamp.

Ben had told the woman Eddie’s whole story, which he remembered very well from when he’d told it to Beverly, but first he had told his own, which he apparently felt was much more important.

Eddie was too cold to say anything anyway.

“Oh, you poor creatures.” The Lapp woman, introduced as Jessica during the story exchanges, began to plate up some food. “You dears still have such a long way to go. You have to travel hundreds of miles into the Finmark. That’s where the Snow Queen is taking a countryside vacation and burning her blue fireworks every evening. I’ll jot you down a message and you can take it to the Finn woman who lives up there, Lucille, as she will be able to tell you more about it.”

As soon as Eddie had thawed out a little and Jessica had given him something to eat and drink, she wrote a few words onto a dried codfish (she had no paper, apparently), and told Eddie to take very good care of it before helping Eddie back onto Ben.

Ben took off again, and all night long there were Northern Lights swishing and crackling in the sky overhead.

When they finally reached the Finmark the following morning, Eddie had approached the door of the hut warily, and with a nudge from Ben, knocked on the door three times. The Finn woman, Lucille, had a very warm hut. So warm, in fact, that she walked around  _ mostly  _ naked, only covering the more important and private areas of her body.

Lucille was small and fast and had helped Eddie to remove his gloves and coat before loosening his clothes, so that he wouldn’t pass out from the heat. Eddie had ended up stripping down to his own underwear, and he felt somewhat awkward sitting there on her couch like this, but she seemed to pay him no mind.

A small window was opened, just big enough that Ben could stick his head inside as Lucille read over the quick message on the codfish that Eddie handed to her. She read it three times, learned it by heart, and then tossed the fish into the kettle of soup so as not to waste it. Lucille was not one to waste things, after all.

Ben told the woman his own story first, and then he told her Eddie’s, and Lucille winked a knowing eye towards Eddie, but said nothing.

“You’re such a wise woman.” Ben said, his attention settling on Lucille. “I know that you can tie all the winds of the world together with a bit of cotton thread, and if a sailor unties one knot he gets a favourable wind. If he unties another he gets a stiff gale, while if he unties the third and fourth ones, a tempest that can flatten trees in the forest rages. Won’t you  _ please  _ give this boy something to drink that will make him as strong as twelve men, so that he may overpower the Snow Queen?”

“Twelve strong men.” Lucille mused as she headed for her shelf. “Much good that would be.” 

Lucille took down a big rolled-up skin, and carefully unrolled it. On this skin were strange characters that Eddie would never hope to understand, but Lucille did, and she read them until the sweat rolled down her forehead. Ben begged her again to help Eddie, and Eddie looked at her with such imploring and tear filled eyes that Lucille winked again.

Lucille insisted that Eddie should eat some of the bread already laid out on her table, and then she made her way to the window and lowered her voice to address only Ben. 

“Stan is indeed with the Snow Queen, and everything there seems to be suiting him just fine. He thinks that being with her is the best place in the whole world because he has a splinter of glass in his heart and a small piece of it in his eyes. Unless those can be removed he will never be human again, and the Snow Queen will continue to hold him in her power.”

“But can’t you fix Eddie with something to drink? Something that will give him more power than all of that combined?” Ben implored.

Lucille shook her head gravely. “No power that I could give to him could be as great as that which she has. Do you not see how both man and beast are compelled to serve her, and how far she has come in the world since she started out? We must not tell Eddie about this power. Strength lies in his heart because he such a sweet and innocent boy. If he himself cannot reach the Snow Queen and rid Stan of those pieces of glass, then there is no help that we can give him. The Snow Queen’s garden lies about eight miles from here. You may carry Eddie there, put him down by the big bush covered with red berries that grow on the snow, and then hurry back here alone.”

It had taken some convincing, but Ben had agreed to Lucille’s plan and Lucille helped Eddie to dress once more before helping him back onto the reindeer’s back and Ben galloped away as fast as he could. Ben galloped until he came to the bush that Lucille had mentioned,  and it was there that he lowered himself so Eddie could climb off, before dragging his large tongue up the side of his face with tearful eyes.

With his sloppy goodbye done, Ben turned and galloped away as fast as he could, leaving Eddie alone in the middle of the icy Finmark.

And Eddie ran as fast as he could.

For Stan, who didn’t remember Eddie, didn’t have the slightest clue that he was just outside of the Snow Queen’s Palace.

  
  


**Part VII: Inside The Snow Queen’s Palace**

 

The walls of the Snow Queen’s palace were made of snow, and the windows and doors were knife-edged winds. There were a hundred halls, maybe more, shaped the way the snow had drifted, and the largest of these halls seemed to extend for miles. Every hall was lit by a flare of the Northern lights, and the halls were so immense and empty, but yet brilliant and glacial. 

And where the halls of a normal palace would be full of laughter, music, dancing and gossip, the halls of the Snow Queen’s palace were empty, vast and frigid. The Northern Lights themselves flared with such a regularity that it was easy to time exactly when they would be at their highest and lowest.

In the middle of the vast empty hall of snow, there was a frozen lake cracked into over a thousand pieces, but each piece was shaped exactly the same, which made it look like a work of wonderful craftsmanship.

The Snow Queen herself would sit in the exact centre of it whenever she was home, and she referred to it as sitting on her  _ Mirror of Reason. _ She had said that this particular mirror was the only one of its kind, and the best thing in all of the world.

And Stan would sit at her feet, blue, almost black from the cold, but he didn’t feel it, because the Snow Queen had kissed away all of his icy tremblings, and his heart had now turned into nothing more than a lump of ice.

He was shifting around some sharp flat pieces of ice to and fro, trying to fit them into every possible pattern because he wanted to make something with them. It was like a Chinese puzzle game, and Stan was cleverly arranging the pieces together. To him, the patterns were highly remarkable and extremely important, for the chip of glass in his eyes made him see them that way.

Stan arranged the pieces to spell out many words, but he could never find the way to make the one word he was eager to make, for she had not told him the word. She had simply told him that it was a name, and that if he could puzzle it out, then he would be his own master and would be free to go wherever he pleased.

Stan could not puzzle it out, because he could not remember the name. But the name held his freedom; he knew that much.

“Stan, dear, I have to make a flying trip to the warm countries.” The Snow Queen told him one day. “I want to go and take a look into the black cauldrons.” He knew she meant the volcanoes of Etna and Vesuvius, but humoured her all the same with a smile and a nod. “I must whiten them up a little. They need it and it will be such a relief after all those yellow lemons and purple grapes.”

And with that she flew, leaving Stan alone in the endless empty hall.

He continued to puzzle over the pieces, unable to form the name he needed to. It was like the Snow Queen was playing some cruel trick on him, for he had spelled out tons of names and yet had been unable to form the  _ one  _ he needed.

He sat so stiff on the ice that it was easy for a person to assume that he was frozen to death, despite being very much alive.

And all of a sudden Eddie had stormed into the hallway, covered in snow and ice for he had battled against the Snow Queen’s advanced guard, which was a strong flurry of snow designed to keep people out, and he recognised Stan right away, breaking into a run where he threw his arms around the other boy.

He held Stan close, his grip tightening as he started to sob. “Stan! I finally found you! I came all this way and you’re here!”

But Stan sat still, stiff and cold, and when Eddie released him, he saw the other’s eyes lower to the pieces of ice on the ground.

“What are these?” Eddie asked, wondering if Stan would ever respond to him.

“They’re a puzzle from the Snow Queen.” Stan replied, returning to shift the pieces around. “They spell out a name, and she said if I can figure it out, I can go wherever I please, but I haven’t been able to.”

Eddie watched him work silently before his eyes started to wander over the pieces, slowly putting two and two together. He placed his hand over Stan’s and carefully helped him to realign the pieces on the ground.

_ Eddie _ .

Stan stared at the name and then looked up at Eddie. How had he not known this name? He’d tried every name he could think of, but this one did not occur to him even once. His eyes drifted down to the pieces, brow furrowing.

“That can’t be right. That’s not a name. I’ve never heard it.”

Eddie grabbed Stan’s face and directed it back towards himself. “It’s  _ my  _ name, Stan. She took your memory of my name, so you could never make it and be free again.”

“It’s not a name! It’s  _ not.  _ The Snow Queen would never -”

Eddie never got to hear what the Snow Queen would ‘never’ do, because he shut Stan up by pressing their mouths together. An odd warmth spread through Stan’s chest, and it was as though the simple action had opened up a floodgate.

And he remembered.

He burst into tears as the memories came back, and the colour slowly returned to him as his heart began to pump his blood freely once more. No longer was it a lump of ice. Eddie had thawed it out. Eddie had come all this way to -

Stan threw his arms around Eddie, sobbing into his shoulder, and the tears came in such a magnitude that the tiny piece of glass in his eye was washed out. “Eddie! How did you even make it here alone?”

“I wasn’t alone.” Eddie said, clutching at the back of Stan’s jacket. “I’ll tell you everything, but not here.”

Eddie stood and pulled Stan with him. They did not address the kiss, for there was no need. It had felt so natural that once they had run far enough from the Snow Queen’s palace hand in hand, Stan had stopped, pulled Eddie towards him, and kissed him again.

  
  


**Part VIII: Epilogue**

  
Ben met them as they ran from the Snow Queen’s garden, and he lowered quickly so that they were able to climb onto his back. And away he galloped, prepared to take them home,  where they belonged.

Ben stopped first at Lucille’s, where they warmed themselves in her hut while Eddie told Stan everything he’d been through and all the things he’d seen. Lucille gave them directions for their journey before they rode on to Jessica, who was waiting for them with new clothes, ready to take them along in her sleigh. She carried them as far as the limits of the North country went, and there they said goodbye and parted ways.

A raven swooped down as they entered the forest, and Eddie immediately recognised him, even before he’d landed on Eddie’s shoulder and given his cheek an affectionate nip, moments before a young woman came riding towards them on a magnificent horse that Eddie recognised belonged to the two princes.

Beverly now sported an array of pistols and blades upon her person, and had grown tired of living with the robbers, so she was setting out on a journey to the North. She recognised Eddie at once, and so did he.

Beverly regarded Stan, a wicked smile on her face. “I’d like to know whether you deserve to have someone running to the end of the Earth for your sake. Why don’t you tell me what happened since we last saw each other, Eddie?”

Eddie told her the bits she did not know, and Beverly smiled the entire time, praising Eddie for his bravery of storming into the Snow Queen’s palace, before she deemed Stan as deserving of having Eddie travelling to the end of the Earth to save him. She bid them goodbye and promised to meet them again sometime before she rode away.

Together, Stan and Eddie made their way back home, and Mike assured him he would catch up with them once he’d been to the Princes’, to tell them of Eddie’s tale and how he’d finally found Stan. Eddie had kissed the raven on the head and thanked him for keeping him company for most of the trip before they parted ways.

And when they finally made it back to their city, Stan and Eddie walked straight into Stan’s house. His Grandmother burst into tears and called out for someone upstairs, who was soon revealed to be Eddie’s mother. She rushed down the stairs and held onto her son tightly.

They told them the tale since Stan had been taken, and one thing became clear to the four of them.

Stan and Eddie were seventeen now and they were no longer children. They had gone out out into the world as children, and they had come back as adults.

Many springs, summers, falls, and winters passed, and Eddie and Stan were never apart again.

And when Stan and Eddie were twenty-five, they finally did the most adult of things they possibly could, and tied the knot that even Stan’s grandmother had pestered them about.

Because there was no one that she had seen closer to each other than them.


End file.
